


As Always

by Ms_LizzyBlitz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, because there's rarely any shiro angst, depressed shiro, suicidal shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_LizzyBlitz/pseuds/Ms_LizzyBlitz
Summary: Death seems to appease to him every time, though Shiro won't take the bait today. Maybe another time... As always...





	As Always

 

* * *

**_Tick_ **

 

“Pull yourself together,”

 

He keeps telling himself, as he breathed through gritted teeth. 

 

Inhale and then exhale, simple as that. Shiro stared at the blank ceiling, as he lay flat on his back on his mattress. His calloused fingers digging into the skin of his palm, his chest slowly rising up and down in an irregular pattern, jolting ever so slightly. The whirring of machinery was all he tried to focus on.

 

“Not today,” He keeps repeating to himself, as he tossed and turned to his side, trying to get those obscure thoughts out of his head, hoping to ease himself.  _ Obscure,  _ what a word. Ambiguous, or indefinite could be the word. Maybe even unethical, or abnormal. But obscure was what stuck to him. At least he tried to tell himself it was obscure. 

 

A voice whispers to him,  _ “What have you done,” _

 

“I’m sorry,” he answers back, his voice cracked at the last word. 

 

_“What have you done,”_ the faint but clear voice echoed in the back of his head. 

 

He  _ must  _ have been going insane, slowly drifting into insanity, into the disease in his head. He could still remember ever so clearly - crystal clear - the scene of blades clashing, the vague smell of blood filling his nostrils, the deafening ringing in his ears and the throbbing pain in his right arm. 

 

He remembered the crowds cheering upon the sight of blood that was spilled on the arena, red splattering across the floor and the familiar deafening scream as his blade pierced through his opponent. 

 

_ “Why,” _

 

He jolted up from his bed, his heart pounding audibly against his chest. His hands were trembling again. Shiro tried to calm his racing heart, while beads of sweat rolled down his chest as his breathing was ragged. Shiro took another deep breath, as he pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the scar that ran across his cheek, serving as a reminder of his failure. 

 

Shiro looked around his dimly lit room. There was no indication of time when you’re in space, but he guessed that it was still the middle of night, since the castle was in silence. No fighting, no bickering, no quarrels or any voices outside of his room from his teammates. Nothing but complete and utter…. silence.

 

He couldn’t sleep, that was obvious, not while he just went through another flashback of his past enslaved by the Galra. He woke up in cold sweat after all, and he’d rather not be enveloped in darkness. Not again. 

 

He slowly sat up from the side of his bed, his feet came in contact with the smooth, cold, hard surface of the floor. It gave him a brief sense of relief, as it reminded him that he’s not dead. That he could - at the very least - still feel  _ something _ . Blindly finding his way towards the exit to his room, he was immediately blinded by bright lights as soon as the doors slid open. He cursed under his breath, but ignored the strange colours that begin to appear in his eyes, and started walking  down that corridor that he goes to on nights like these. 

 

He had gotten used to the layout of the castle, long endless corridors that stretched far beyond his line of sight, lanterns that illuminated as soon as it sensed a presence moving through the hallways. It worked like magic really - though the castle is powered by quintessence after all, an energy that apparently, is what keeps a planet alive. 

 

Shiro’s feet moved silently, careful not to make a noise, not wanting to raise suspicions from his fellow teammates. He didn’t want them to see him right now, not while he’s like -  _ this.  _

 

Shiro took in another ragged breath, as he stops from his tracks. He looked up. 

 

A white, blank wall. Dead end... As always.

 

He looked around, scanning the area for any movement. This particular corridor ended here, no left or right, just the end of a long hallway. He wondered if there was a room that was meant to be placed here, though the thought didn’t last long in the end. He had other  _ thoughts  _ in his head at the moment.

 

Scanning the area once more, he took note of the details of the corridor. The corridor was dimly lit, not much lighting in this area. There were pillars that were placed methodically along the wall and stretching far into the ceiling. A neon light ran along the bottom of the walls, giving the hallway a bright blue hue. Lanterns attached to the pillars seem to serve only as decorations. 

 

_ It was the same setting… As always.  _

 

He wondered if he could be found here, well obviously, if he were to go missing, his team would search for him and the mice seem to know their way around the castle, and could fit in even the tightest spots in the castle. That was the thing, he  _ would  _ be found here, seeing that Allura and Coran has lived among the walls of this castle for most of their lives, and could easily navigate through the long and endless hallways of the castle with ease. 

 

He couldn’t do it here anyway. The ceiling was far too high up to even reach, the pillars were smooth, as if made out of marble, and the lanterns - he figured - weren’t that durable at all. 

 

His rope isn’t long enough anyway, and there was nothing to tie the rope with. Even if he was able to tie a rope somewhere, he wouldn’t be able to reach the rope, which is another problem. The only option now is if the team were to encounter a planet that had trees with branches that aren’t too far high up, or grab a knife from...  _ Somewhere  _ and-

 

_ No.  _ He shook his head,  _ I’m doing it again.  _

 

Why did he want to do it again? 

 

Was it the stress? Was it the overwhelming responsibility that he had? Was it his flashbacks, his PTSD? Was it the fear of failing? 

 

Shiro’s thoughts seem to conflict each other, it had been that way for as long as he could remember. 

 

_ What would happen to the team if you were gone?  _ Shiro wouldn’t allow his team to see him that way. 

 

But the temptation of  _ death  _ seemed to appease to him every time… 

 

After standing there for what seemed like hours, Shiro turned around, his tired eyes still refusing to sleep. He looked at the palm of his left hand,  _ the human one,  _ before comparing it to his other arm.  _ The machine.  _

 

“Not today…” Shiro says to himself, before dragging himself back to his room.

 

And he went back. As always. Maybe another time…

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because there aren't enough angst in Voltron other than Lance angst here. Like every time I search up for Voltron angst, the first thing that pops up is LANGST. I mean no hate against that, I'm fine with Langst its just that I want to read something other than langst and well, I decided to try and make my own.
> 
> Also I'm not very good at writing but I tried my best with this one hope you guys liked it.


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